


KVP @ MSG

by IprotectKennyP (dauntperplexity)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-21 01:09:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10674582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dauntperplexity/pseuds/IprotectKennyP
Summary: Fourteen years before Kent meets Jack, he meets Bad Bob.





	KVP @ MSG

**Author's Note:**

> My homie (you know who you are), was feeling a little bummed about hockey, so I figured it was the perfect time to finish writing the story that was supposed to be her Christmas, then birthday present.
> 
> I hope you like it, zz!
> 
> Also, this fic may or may not fall into the same universe as Keep in Check (Please).

George found him standing in the middle of the island in the kitchen with his hand in his leftover birthday cake.

“Kent Valeray Parson. Get off the island,” he said, walking up to the  island with his arms crossed over his chest. He was fighting to keep a straight face.

“How get down,” Kent said as he lifted his hand up and licked the cake and frosting off of his palm. He stayed crouched over the cake, ready to lick at the frosting.

“Bud. It’s too early for cake,” George said. He stepped toward the edge of the island with his arms out, ready to pick him up.

“Not yet,” Kent said.

“Yes, yet.” Of course he’d be arguing with his boy over cake.

“But, my cake,” Kent said. He pointed at the giant 3 candle still on the cake. He grabbed it and licked at it. He let out a growl as he was ready to take a bite.

“No, no,” he said, taking the candle out of his hand. Just as he did, Kent reached down and scooped up another handful of cake. “Oh my god.”

"George. Get your son off of the counter." Lydia said, walking in and seeing her two boys.

"He's your son too."

“Not right now, he isn’t.

“But when he’s the little angel he is, he’s yours, right?” George said with a smirk.

“George!” she said. She smiled as she did.

“Dorge!” Kent repeated in the same tone, pointing at his dad. 

“Don’t you ‘Dorge’ me,” George said. “Look at him.” He smiled and looked his son over. He was covered in cake and adorable. 

Lydia crossed her arms over her chest and let out a huff. “George.” They were going to be late.

“Dorge,” Kent said, copying his mom’s motions. He got cake all over his clothes as he tried to cross his arms the way she did.

"Excuse me, Mister?"

"Scuse me, Dorge."

“Is he actually eating the cake?” Lydia asked, seeing cake all over her son’s face.

“No,” George said while Kent said, “Yes!”

“Bud, you’re killing me here,” George said with a laugh.

“Oh no!” Kent said. “I not kill daddy. I kiss?”

“I’m okay, buddy,” George said. 

“He needs real food before we go,” Lydia replied.

“Pah tar?” Kent said, pointing to the Pop-Tarts box on the fridge.

“No,” George and Lydia said at the same time.

Kent held up two fingers. “Two pah tar?” he said. He clapped his cake covered hands.

“One Pop-Tart,” George replied.

“No,” Kent said, shaking his head. “Two.”

“Kent Valeray,” George said in as stern a tone as he could muster. It was difficult to keep a straight face when Kent looked like he had fallen in the cake.

“Daddy daddy,” Kent replied in the same tone.

And that did it for George. “One. And banana.”

“One. An not all banana.”

“Half."

“Half,” Kent said to agree. “Cake first,” he added, reaching for the cake again.

“Fine,” George said.

“No,” Lydia immediately said. “You can’t negotiate with your son, George.”

"I got him to eat a banana."

"Half!

"Good negotiating, babe."

Kent let out a laugh and happily clapped his frosting covered hands. He then held his hands out, wanting his dad to pick him up.

George looked at his wife and rolled his eyes with a smile. “You know this is your fault, right? Because you let him stand on the island to help you cook.”

“Add salt!” Kent said. He grabbed his dad’s cheeks with both of his hands and kissed him on his mouth. “Cake, daddy.”

“Yes, buddy. Cake.”

“George, you need to get him dressed. And you need to change. I’ll get his food then we have to go before we hit traffic,” she said.

“Hon, we’ll be okay,” he said. “It’s still early. I’ll give him his bath. Just have his banana ready.”

“Half.”

“Of course, buddy.” George knew that once they walked away from the kitchen, Kent would forget about the Pop-Tart and he’d eat the entire banana if it was given to him.

George carried Kent to the bathroom and turned on the water. “Okay, bud. No splashing. We have somewhere to go,” he said, sitting Kent on the counter. He took off his shirt and threw it into the hamper.

“Where going?”

“Somewhere special. But you have to clean up first.”

“Okay,” he said. He let his dad take off his pants and baby briefs. He then walked over and climbed into the tub that was already filling up. 

Bath time was not as messy as George thought it would be. Ten minutes later, George had dried and dressed Kent before changing his own frosting-covered shirt. They headed to the living room together. “Ready?” he asked Kent.

“Yes,” Kent said with a smile. “Mama,” he said loudly, running to her. He grabbed the banana on the coffee table. “Open, please.”

“Of course, baby,” Lydia said, kissing him on his forehead. She peeled the banana and broke off a piece. “Eat then we can go, okay?”

Kent climbed onto the couch and sat down next to his mom. “Okay.” He took the piece and shoved the entire thing into his mouth.

“Kent!”

Kent looked up with wide eyes, chewing the food in his mouth. It took a little bit before he was able to swallow. “Yes, mama?” he asked.

“Who taught you how to eat like that?” Lydia asked, handing him another piece.

“You’re talking about the same boy who ate the dandelion instead of blowing the seeds off of it,” George said.

“He gets that from you.”

“I’ll take it. Yeah, buddy?”

“Yeah, daddy,” Kent said, unsure of what he was agreeing to. He took the last piece of the banana and popped it into his mouth. Once he was done, he held his hands up. “Wash hands.”

“I gotcha, bud,” George said, picking the boy up and carrying him into the kitchen. He washed Kent’s hands then set him on the ground. “Okay. shoes. Then we gotta go.”

“Gotta go,” he said. He ran to the front door, grabbed his shoes, and slid his feet into them. Once George and Lydia were close, he grabbed their hands. “Gotta go.”

They walked out of their house and to the car. Lydia buckled Kent into his car seat and kissed him like she always did. Then George and Lydia got into the car.

And they drove.

They arrived at Madison Square Garden one _Beauty and the Beast_ soundtrack later.

Kent looked out the window when he saw the huge arena and the crowd outside. “Oh. What dat?” he asked, pointing.

“Something fun,” George said as he parked the car. He got out and took Kent out of the car seat. He carried him. “Okay, bud. What are the rules for going out?”

“ABC!” Kent said proudly.

“Always be close,” George and Lydia said.

“Not get lost, mama,” Kent said. Lydia and George smiled at his addition. Kent was usually very good about staying close and within view of his parents.

George made sure he had his keys and wallet before locking the car. He carried Kent as they walked toward the front of the arena. The closer they got to the entrance, the more servicemen and servicewomen they saw. He showed his military ID at the door and walked in to see the setup.

There were servicemen and servicewomen with their families everywhere. There were booths and games and giveaways and prizes and George wondered if Kent would want to try any of them. Or all of them. He looked at his son’s face and saw him staring at everything with wide eyes. “You okay, bud?”

“Yes. Fun, daddy,” he said, pointing to everything. “What dat?” he asked, pointing at a kid sized hockey net.

“Let’s go look,” George said. They walked over and once they were close enough, he put Kent down so he could walk on his own. He held Kent’s hand and smiled at the players around the area. He recognized a few of them. “Hello, sirs,” he said. “Thank you for doing this for us.”

One of the players stepped forward. “Thank you for your service,” he said. He then walked over to the little boy who was standing in front of the net. He knelt down next to him. “Hey,” he said. “I’m Bob. What’s your name?”

Kent turned to stare at the man. He smiled softly. “Kent Pahson. Das mama and daddy,” he said, pointing to his mom and dad. “Mama. Daddy. Dis Bob.”

“Hi, Kent,” Bob said. He held his hand up. “Can I get a high five?”

Kent nodded and let go of his daddy’s hand to give Bob a high five. “What dis?” he asked, pointing to the net.

“It’s a hockey net. Do you know what hockey is?”

Kent shook his head. “Hockey?”

George smiled and watched them interact. “This is his first introduction to hockey.”

“Well then,” Bob said. “How old are you, Kent?”

“Three.”

“Oh. My boy will be three in a month,” Bob said with a smile. 

“His birthday was yesterday,” Lydia said. She took a few pictures of Kent and Bob interacting. “Mr. Zimmermann, can we take some pictures taken with you?”

“Of course.” He stayed kneeling next to Kent and smiled.

“Smile, baby,” Lydia said. Once Kent smiled his usual big smile, she snapped a few pictures.

“How about one with all of us?” Bob suggested. He called over one of the other players to take the picture.

George was about to pick Kent up for it, but Kent shook his head. “What’s up, bud?”

“Bob.”

“Baby,” Lydia said. “I don’t think—”

“It’s okay,” Bob said. “You want me to carry you?” He smiled when Kent nodded and raised his arms up. “Okay. Here we go,” he said, picking the boy up. He posed and smiled as the person took a few. He then put the boy back on the ground. He stayed kneeling to talk to Kent. “So, it was your birthday, yesterday?”

“Uh huh. I’n three.”

“Well then,” Bob said, making his way to his feet. He grabbed the small hockey stick and a ball and put the ball on the ground while holding the stick out to Kent. “If you make a goal, I’ll give you a present since it was your birthday. Just hit the ball into the net, okay?”

Kent held the stick and looked at it. His eyes moved to the ball on the ground. He moved and waved the stick around before hitting the ball. It moved slowly, but it trickled into the back of the net. The players and his parents cheered as he scored. “Yay!” Kent said with a smile. He then ran to his dad and hugged him, hiding his face in his legs.

“Good job, bud! But you gotta give the stick back to Mr. Bob.”

Kent nodded and walked over to Bob, holding out the stick. “Here, Bob.”

“Thank you, Kent,” he said. He knelt down again and held out two acrylic boxes. One had one puck in it while the second had a stack of five. Both had signatures on them. “For you, okay? Happy birthday.” He looked up at George and Lydia as they stepped closer. “The individual one has just my signature. The other one is a set that the rest of us signed. We’re supposed to give them away.”

Kent grabbed the individual puck. “Oh,” he said softly.

“What do you say, baby?” Lydia said.

“Thank you,” Kent said, hugging Bob. He kissed Bob on his cheek. He held up the puck and saw silver on it. “What says?”

“To Kent. Happy birthday. From Bad Bob Zimmermann,” he said with a smile. He looked at George and Lydia. “I’ll make sure that seats next to the bench are reserved for you three.”

“You don’t have to do that,” George said.

“His first hockey experience has to be memorable,” Bob said. “Maybe I will make a fan out of him.” He looked up when a crowd of people moved to their both. “I’ll see you around, Kent, okay? You go and have fun. High five?”

“Okay,” Kent said giving Bob one more high five. “Bye, Bob.” He walked to his mom, holding the puck in one hand. He held his free hand up to his mom and growled at his dad when he tried to take the puck and put it away for safekeeping. “I hold.” He grabbed onto his mom’s pinky and followed their lead to the next booth.

“Okay, bud, okay,” George said with a laugh. Knowing his son, the puck would never be more than three feet away from him for a long, long time. 

The three of them walked from booth to booth getting prizes and playing games the best Kent could with one hand since he refused to let go of the puck. Still, he won prizes and giveaways before settling in a chair to get his face painted.

Lydia took a picture of the finished product. “So handsome, baby.” She held a mirror in front of him so he could look at the art. “Do you like it?”

“Yes,” he said. He pointed to his face. “Fireworks. And stars.” He looked at his daddy. “Where Bob?”

“Getting ready.” He looked over at Lydia who put away the camera. “We should head inside.”

“Do you really think Bad Bob saved us seats?”

George laughed. “Probably not. But we’ll get close so Kent can look at the ice, then find some seats for the game. There aren’t too many of us, so any seat will probably be okay.” He picked up Kent. “Come on, bud. We need to go inside.”

“We inside,” Kent said with a frown.

Lydia laughed. “Of course, baby,” she said, adjusting the bags of prizes Kent won. She held onto Kent’s free hand as they walked into the rink. 

Kent’s eyes went wide when he saw the rink. “Oh wow…” he said softly. “Daddy, mama, look,” he said, pointing with the puck.

“We see,” Lydia said with a smile. “Come on. Let’s get a closer look for a little bit.” The three of them walked down the stairs and toward the ice. They watched the teams warm up.

“Oh wow,” Kent said, watching the men skate by. He kept staring until a man stopped in front of them and waved. “Bob!” he said. He waved his free hand.

Bob waved back. He then pointed to three seats near the bench. There were three open seats right by the ice and the bench.

Lydia shook her head. It was okay if they didn’t get right on the ice. They could see the ice from anywhere they sat around the rink. “George, come on,” she said.

George was ready to find some seats a little higher up when a security guard walked up to them. “Yes?”

“Mr. Zimmermann said that those seats are reserved for you,” he said. He gestured over to the seats Bob had pointed at earlier.

“I think we have to sit there now,” George said.

“I think so. You do realize that we have to figure out a way to top this next year, right?” Lydia asked as she led the way.

“Well, we have a year to plan,” he said, putting Kent down on in the seat closest to the bench. He sat down next to him, and Lydia took the third open spot. “Hey, buddy,” he said. He looked over and smiled as Kent was so focused on the skaters in front of him. He waved every time Bob skated by.

Kent stayed standing through all of warm ups. And during the national anthem. And even as the people lined up for the game to start. He smiled when he saw Bob on the other side of the glass, sitting at the edge of the bench. As much as he wanted to converse with his new friend, he turned to watch the exhibition game start.

He was enthralled by everything in front of him from the skating, to the checking, to the cheering whenever someone scored. Kent cheered along with them, even if they didn’t understand what the cheering was for.

His excitement was multiplied by tenfold whenever Bob skated onto the ice.

Then, the first period ended. He watched as the team skated off. “Where going, daddy?” he asked, stepping over the armrest and into his daddy’s lap.

“They need water, bud,” he said.

“Oh.”

“Speaking of water, I think that he needs something to eat and drink,” Lydia said.

“Sure,” George said, picking Kent up and putting him in Lydia’s lap. “What are we thinking? Popcorn?”

“Yes!”

“Hot dogs?”

“Yes!”

“French fries!”

“Yes!”

“We are not getting all of that,” Lydia said. “Maybe just chicken strips and fries. I’ll share with him. And get him just water.”

“Okay,” he said. He reached into Lydia’s bag and pulled out his wallet. “I’ll be right back, bud, okay?” He bent down and kissed Kent.

“I stay with mama,” Kent said, sitting in her lap. He sat back and watched the zamboni drive by on the ice. “Whoa,” he said. Everything about this experience was so fascinating to him.

George returned with drinks and food fifteen minutes later. He sat down and handed a fry to Kent. “Having fun, buddy?”

Kent leaned forward to eat it. He nodded to answer his daddy. “I want play hockey, daddy.”

“Oh yeah?”

Kent nodded again. “Play hockey like Bob.”

Lydia reached over and grabbed a chicken strip. She took a bite before she put it in front of Kent to eat. She put the rest of the strip back in the box. “Drink some water, baby.”

“I got a kid cup for him,” George said. He poured some water into it and put the straw to his lips. “Come on. Gotta drink before the game starts again.”

Kent put the straw in his mouth and took a deep inhale to take a long sip of water. He coughed a few times and looked back when his mom patted his back. “Thank you, mama.”

“Of course, baby. Still hungry?”

“Fries, please.”

Lydia grabbed on and held it out to him. He took the fry and shoved the whole thing into his mouth. She let out a sigh with a laugh. “At least he’s eating.” She grabbed a napkin and wiped his hand clean. “You want to go back to your seat?”

Kent nodded. He stood up and his mommy and daddy trade food and him. He stood on his seat and watched as the skaters came back out on the ice. He leaned back and saw them skate around before heading back to the benches. He waved again when Bob tapped on the glass next to him.

Halfway through the period, Lydia looked over and saw that Kent needed to sit down. “Babe, can you get him? He’s gonna fall.”

George nodded and reached over to pick Kent up. “Come on, buddy.”

“No…” Kent whined, wanting to stay in his seat.

“Hey,” George said, sitting Kent down in his lap. “You can still see Bob.” He watched Kent let out a long yawn. “Tired?”

“No,” he said. “Not tired.”

“Okay,” George said, even though he could tell that Kent was fading.

With five minutes left in the period, Kent fell asleep in his daddy’s lap. Lydia reached into her bag, pulled out a jacket, and put it over him so he could nap for a little bit. 

Kent woke up five minutes into the third period. He rubbed his eyes and stayed in his daddy’s lap as he watched the game. He was still excited about all of it, but he was so tired. He still waved every time Bob skated by and looked over.

The game ended and Lydia and George stayed seated for a bit while the crowd filtered out. They wanted Kent to drink and eat a little more before he finally settled down for his real nap. They looked up when the same security guard walked over to them again.

“Mr. Zimmermann wanted me to say that he has a few things to give Kent, so if you could wait for few minutes for him to shower, then he’ll be out to give it to him.”

Lydia nodded. “He may be asleep, though,” she said, pointing to Kent.

“I’ll let him know.”

Lydia tried to get Kent to finish eating at least one chicken strip and a few more fries before drinking some more water. “Thank you, baby.”

“Welcome, mama,” he said with a tired smile. He rubbed his eye and let out a yawn. “Where Bob?”

“He’ll be here in a little bit, baby,” Lydia said. “Drink a little more, okay? Then we’ll say bye and you can go to sleep.”

Kent nodded and took a few more sips of water. He looked at his daddy. “Have to go potty,” he said.

“Okay. Let’s go,” George said, picking him up. While bathroom breaks hadn’t been difficult since Kent had been potty trained, it was little challenging when Kent would not let go of the puck. “Buddy. I have to hold it.”

“No.”

“I promise I’ll give it back.”

Kent stared at his daddy, bouncing where he stood. He really had to go. He then held the box out to his daddy who put it in his pocket. “Okay, gotta go potty,” he said, then ran to the toilet.

George helped Kent go, washed his hands, gave the puck back, then carried him back down to the rink. He smiled when he saw Bob already waiting and speaking with Lydia. “Look who it is.”

“Bob!” Kent said. It was his last bit of adrenaline before he crashed and fell asleep.

George walked down and leaned against the glass, holding Kent on his hip. “Hello,” he said.

“Hello,” Kent said.

“Did you have fun, Kent?” Bob asked.

“Yes,” Kent said with a smile. He held up the puck and waved it.

Lydia smiled. “He’s not going to let that thing out of his sight for weeks,” she said.

“Well, if you ever lose it, just send me a letter and I’ll get another one sent to you.”

“You don’t have to do that, sir,” George replied. “You giving Kent all of this attention is more than enough.” He moved to adjust his hold on Kent. “He did say that he wants to start playing hockey, now.”

Bob smiled. “Well, then my job is done,” he said. “Maybe our sons will play together some day.” He reached into the bag that he had with him. “Well, I have a few more things for him.” He pulled out a tube. “Here is a poster. It’s autographed by all of the players who were here.”

George took it and kept it out of Kent’s hold. “You don’t have enough hands, bud.”

Kent let out another yawn. “Thank you,” he said.

“Not done yet,” he said. He reached into the bag and pulled out a few more things. “Well. If you want, here is one of those children hockey sets. If you don’t take it, it’ll most likely be given away to someone else.”

“Is this the same one from outside?”

“Yes.”

George looked over at Lydia. He didn’t want to be the one to make the decision. “Hon?”

“We have the space,” Lydia said. “Thank you, Mr. Zimmermann.”

“Bad Bob,” he gently said. He reached into the bag to grab two more things. They were both jerseys. One was what Bob wore during the game, and the other was the color that the opposite team wore. “So, these are supposed to go to auction,” Bob said. “But, I figured giving them to Kent would be better.” He smiled and handed over the two. “I signed this one, so if you want to frame it or use it, it’s brand new.” He held up the one he wore that was in a plastic bag. “This one needs to be washed.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to bring one back for your son?”

Bob shook his head. “Alicia does not want another jersey in our home.”

“Mine?” Kent asked.

“If you want,” Bob said.

“Thank you,” Kent replied.

Bob put everything back into the bag. “Is this too much? It might be too much. Alicia says that I always go beyond when it comes to younger fans.”

Lydia smiled at Bob. “I think Kent appreciates it. Don’t you, baby?”

“Thank you,” Kent said with another yawn. 

“He looks like he needs a nap,” Bob said. He gathered everything and picked up the bag. He held it out to George. “I really hope you all had a fun time.”

“It’ll be a day to remember, for sure,” George said. He looked over as Kent rested his head on his shoulder. “Tired, buddy?”

“Tired, daddy.”

“Okay. We’ll head home, okay?”

Bob stepped forward and held his hand out, taking Kent’s free one and shaking it. “Bye, Kent. I’ll be seeing you around, okay?”

Kent shook Bob’s hand. “Okay,” he yawned. “Bye, Bob.”

“It was nice to meet you, Bad Bob,” Lydia said, holding her hand out.

Bob shook Lydia’s hand. “I hope to see you again next year,” he said with a smile.

“We’ll be here, sir,” George said, reaching to shake Bob’s hand too.

Bob let go of Lydia’s hand and shook George’s. “I can’t wait to see what he does on the ice,” he said with a wink. He let go of George’s hand and walked over to a few fans who were calling his name. 

George and Lydia grabbed the bags. They headed up the stairs to leave the arena. By the time they got to the car, Kent was asleep.

George buckled Kent into his car seat before getting into the car. Once they were in the car, he leaned over and kissed Lydia. “Well, I think today was a success.”

Lydia let out a yawn. She leaned over and kissed George on his cheek. “It was,” she said. She buckled in as George started the car.

George put his belt on and pulled out of the spot. “If we have any hope of topping this next year, we have to start planning now.”

Lydia nodded. “I’ll leave that to you.”

George rolled his eyes. “Who knows,” he said. “Maybe this hockey thing won’t stick.”

Lydia looked over at her husband and raised her eyebrow at him. “You don’t really know my son that well, do you? This isn’t like his train and truck obsession. Hockey is gonna be a thing for years to come.”

“If you say so, hon,” George said. 

“I do. You’ll see.”

“I’m sure I will.” 

If George knew anything about his wife, he knew that she was already planning to look up skating lessons for Kent. And she would look into how early Kent could start playing.

George was right.

She was. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at zimmboniandbitty.


End file.
